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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411841">A Cheeseburger and a Familiar Face</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashewmoo/pseuds/kashewmoo'>kashewmoo</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/link621/pseuds/link621'>link621</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>[RP] Verse with no BS - Ochi/Mouri [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Grief/Mourning, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:29:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411841</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashewmoo/pseuds/kashewmoo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/link621/pseuds/link621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of a global pandemic and a heated legal battle for the family inheritance with his father's sons from a previous marriage, Ochi seeks a friend. There weren’t many men in the world brave enough to tell Ochi Tsukimitsu that he looked like shit to his face, but he supposed that was one of the reasons why he allowed Mouri to become so close.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mouri Jusaburou/Ochi Tsukimitsu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>[RP] Verse with no BS - Ochi/Mouri [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Cheeseburger and a Familiar Face</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>References the COVID-19 global pandemic and mentions grief from losing a parent.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>More than a few drinks and the remiments of Kijimima’s ridiculous antics later, Ochi felt his mood dip. It was nothing new - he was no beacon of light, though his name may have suggested otherwise - but it seemed to do that more often than not these days. A global pandemic mixed with serving as an essential service worker combined with new layers of expectations outside of his usual job description left him feeling more ragged than usual, and, well, grief was a bitch even years later.</p><p>For what felt like hours he had simply stared out floor to ceiling windows over the disappearing afternoon light, iPhone limp in one hand, glass empty in the other. As healing as it could be to speak about such things like family dysfunction with another who knew that well, it also dredged up the reality that he was far from being done in the legal battle with his brothers. Ochi wasn’t entirely convinced he would live a life without some lawsuit or someone trying to weasel their way into his good graces - with any luck, his nieces and nephews would turn out to be better people than their fathers, but given rocky family history that looked fairly bleak.</p><p>Frankly, he just wanted to be left alone. But he wasn’t going to give in to them, either. It was his responsibility to carry on his father’s wishes, and carrying out his father’s wishes is what he was going to do.</p><p>Finally, as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Ochi lifted the hand holding his phone to look at the screen to check the time. Akutagawa had changed his display picture to that of Usagi following her routine hair shear - you could actually see her face beneath the fluff that usually crowded her eyes, and Ochi hadn’t bothered to change it for it was probably better than the previous picture which was that of he and his father prior to his father’s passing, and that was likely the actual reason why Akutagawa took it upon himself to change it. Once a meddling Hyoutei student, always a meddling Hyoutei student. But it was late enough that it would be good to start thinking about dinner, and the idea of a hamburger did still sound appealing.</p><p>Yet instead of opening the UberEats app he found himself bringing up his list of contacts to Mouri’s name and dialing. Given the literal box that he lived in and their measly monthly salary, the least he could do is make sure that Mouri ate, too. And it wasn’t as though they needed to respect social distancing. Any closer and they’d be right on top of one another in their work.</p><p>Mouri had run out of things to clean in his apartment, mostly because there wasn’t much apartment to speak of and not much to clean. But every time he got home from work and cleaned his clothes and showered, he would then find himself disinfecting every surface and then washing his hands once more for good measure. He wore PPE for work, of course, and had been an absolute maniac about hygiene since he was on the front lines, but he still got home and felt like he couldn’t really be clean. What if it was on the one surface that he didn’t clean? He didn’t take himself as mysophobic before this pandemic, but he was certainly showing signs of it, now. It was, after all, the only thing in his life that felt like it was in his control.</p><p>He finally collapsed onto his couch and stared at the small table that was serving as his dining table, coffee table, and home office. He could see his reflection in the shine he had cleaned into it with his rampant disinfecting. He wasn’t just out of things to clean, he was out of things to do. He had never been very good at staying inside and passing the time (even his short two-years of higher education had been rough on him with all the reading he was forced to do at home in order to keep up). He wasn’t particularly creative or inclined to things like watching TV or reading so quiet time at home often led him to trying to be creative with the really strange ensemble of things in his tiny fridge (he had a slice of leftover pizza, some kewpie, and a couple pieces of celery in there, now - he checked) or staring at his phone for a few hours until he moved from his “living space” to his “sleeping space” a few feet away and passed out.</p><p>He flirted with the idea of getting a TV and a gaming console (or maybe one of those new Nintendos), but he wasn’t sure how he would keep it clean or if he would even have the energy to play it after work and keeping things orderly. He probably should have been getting in some extra workouts with the unloved TRX hanging from the ceiling or the free weights he had strategically stacked to take up as little room as possible, but… well, did it even matter, anymore? All he did was work, clean, and eat and… what was the point?</p><p>He could really go for a cheeseburger, though.</p><p>His phone buzzing startled Mouri from his reverie. The person calling was both the most and least expected person it could be. If it was a social call, he was deeply concerned. If it was a work call, well… “Hey, Tsuki!” He answered, leaving the phone on speaker and resting it on his chest. He didn’t hold phones to his ear, anymore.</p><p>It was probably his poor mood speaking, but somehow he didn’t actually expect Mouri to answer with such chipperness. As far as Ochi knew, Mouri had been so concerned with disinfecting every surface in his home following every shift that happiness didn’t really exist anymore in his mind. It was highly unlikely that this was the one day that he neglected to do so, but maybe he was also just surviving on caffeine like the rest of the police force.</p><p>“...Hi.” Ochi peeled the phone back away from his ear to set it to speaker and leave it on his chest. “Am I interrupting your daily ritual?”</p><p>Mouri laughed humorlessly. “Wow, you don’t need to just call me out like that.” It wasn’t like Ochi was wrong about it, of course, he wasn’t. It also was pretty typical of Ochi to just say things exactly as they were even if no one wanted to hear what he had to say. He had run out of fucks to give so long ago that he was going to be living the rest of his life with a tragic fucks deficiency. “But, no, I’m just chilling on the couch.” He realized belatedly if Ochi was concerned for his time, this probably was a social call, not a work call. With how hard everything had been lately, that probably meant shit was up.</p><p>“...You doing okay?” Mouri ventured quietly into the silence. He always felt a little like he was stomping through Ochi’s prized garden when he asked questions like that.</p><p>That was a loaded question - one that Ochi didn’t feel particularly inclined to answer. An hour long conversation with Kimijima was filled with enough words to last an entire lifetime. But he had also known Mouri long enough that did he not at least somewhat placate his concern, it would turn into a much larger deal than it really needed to be, and Ochi didn’t really have the energy for that, either.</p><p>Following the World Cup in his third year and his graduation from Hyoutei, Mouri was one of the few he bothered to remain in contact with at the time. They didn’t talk daily or anything of the sort - Mouri was still in high school, and Ochi had every intention of loading his course load at university enough that he could graduate with a double major to appease any familial expectations. But he was a presence in Ochi’s life enough that when his father became critically ill and so began the long series of constant hospital visits, at home hospice care, and keeping strong for his mother’s sake, that spending time with Mouri was a breath of fresh air compared to sterile hallways and machine beeps.</p><p>It wasn’t Ochi’s intention to completely drop all manners of communication in his father’s last days and the bustle of funeral arrangements, but just as quick as the funeral was the leak of information that nowhere in the Ochi patriarch’s will stated that even a single yen of the family trust or related assets was awarded to his three eldest sons, and suddenly Tsukimitsu found himself locked head to head in a legal battle that would consume any last remaining iota of time he had outside of school, including the time that should have been spent mourning the loss of his father and the loss of the love of his mother’s life. It was around the time of the first payment of the retainer to his lawyer that Mouri suddenly appeared on his doorstep unannounced, deep concern knitting his brow, and a familiar, “Tsuki-san,” that finally made Ochi crack, showing a side of himself to Mouri that was usually so carefully wrapped up in cool composure that never in a million years would he ever consciously show even his dearest family and friends.</p><p>His own long sigh escaping from his lips broke him from the train of thought. “I’m alright.” For as much as it would seem otherwise, it wasn’t completely lip service. “Have you eaten?”</p><p>Mouri was pretty much sure that Ochi was not alright in the least, but that was his signal to drop it. At least for now. “Nah, I’ve been laying on the couch fantasizing about cheeseburgers,” he replied lightly, trying to shift the tone back to the inane. “At least two patties and a heaping pile of fries.” Oftentimes on long shifts together, Mouri would try to keep Ochi preoccupied by describing in great detail what they could have for dinner when they got off shift. Granted, their financial (and therefore) meal situations were often completely different, so what they actually went home and ate probably wasn’t what he would describe. Sometimes Ochi would even participate in the conversation, occasionally interjecting with his own ideas about what their dinner might look like.</p><p>Thinking of the little quiet moments like that unexpectedly made Mouri’s eyes sting and he was suddenly deeply grateful that Ochi couldn’t see him. It had been a very long time since he first met Ochi in his embarrassing, thorough loss against him in singles, but one thing had held true for almost the whole time he had known him - when things got quiet and nothing but their words filled the small space between them, tension would crawl around in Mouri’s chest and throat and he would find himself smiling at thoughts that he would never share.</p><p>The inane conversation was much appreciated. Perhaps later he’d be willing to talk about it - unlikely, but it could never truly be off the table when Mouri was involved - but for now, easy talk about cheeseburgers was about all the intelligence Ochi felt like exuding. It would simply be a matter of attempting to sway Mouri into a high quality cheeseburger rather than the 100 yen menu he regularly ordered from when left to his own devices. For all the joking about America’s hot garbage they called McDonald’s, it wasn’t actually what Ochi wanted.</p><p>“...I was thinking similarly,” he admitted, shifting his hip enough to allow Usagi more room to bounce up and roam around the leather. “Would you like to come over? I’ll place an order.”</p><p>Mouri perked - it would mean he had to go through his whole ritual again, but the thought of being in more space than an over-glorified cupboard disguised as an apartment. He sat up more straight, his phone tumbling to the ground as he forgot it was on his chest, and muttered, “whoops, sorry - dropped you.” It took a moment of shuffling to pull it out from under the couch, but he managed to fish it out. “Um, yeah - I’d like that. Is it okay if I just stay? I mean, if that’s okay I just need to put together a bag and then I can come over.” It didn’t occur to him until after he said it that he was inviting himself to just stay over at Ochi’s house and maybe that was a bit forward of him?</p><p>The phone thunking to the ground suggested that maybe Mouri needed the invitation as much as Ochi himself did. Not that he didn’t want to be alone - just that it might be better not to be. But the decisive thud of the phone also suggested that Mouri had him on speaker phone and forgot that he had done so, which meant that Mouri was a disaster wreck and needed to eat.</p><p>“That’s fine.” Mouri staying the night didn’t bother him any - it wouldn’t be the first time for one, and for another it wasn’t as though he didn’t have the space for it. “Do you care what restaurant?”</p><p>"Nope, just needs to have two patties!" Mouri started one-handedly throwing things in his bag. Then paused, wondering what he did with his phone. "Hang on, Tsuki-san I think I lost my…" after patting around for a moment he looked back down at his hand, clearly holding his phone. "...marbles. I've lost those for sure."</p><p>As directed, Ochi kept silent while Mouri looked for whatever it was he was looking for, but couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that passed over his lips as he realized just what Mouri had supposedly lost. He sympathized - there had been many days where he felt like that, too.</p><p>“You didn’t need those, anyway.” Ochi picked the phone up off his chest to glance at the time in the corner. “I’ll place the order shortly. It’ll arrive around the time you will.”</p><p>Mouri shook his head at his own stupidity, glad no one had been there to see it. "Kay, I'm gonna head right over." Well, he would after he brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his hair so he at least looked presentable.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As promised, Ochi somehow - somehow - managed to time the UberEats delivery to arrive only a few minutes before Mouri’s arrival. The delivery service hadn’t quite reached the popularity as in other countries, yet, so many didn’t understand the wide appeal of not leaving the home for food that wasn’t the usual pizza, and it came in handy during the pandemic since there were barely any wait times. That, and the particular burger place that Ochi preferred was only fifteen minutes away by foot from the ground level of his condo building.</p><p>It was good timing for by the time he let Mouri in through the door, there was already a spread of promised double patty burgers, enough truffle oil seasoned fries to feed a small army, and two glass bottles of a foreign import soda from an American brewery. There was plenty of liquor if Mouri preferred to move in that direction, but Ochi had drank enough for one day. It may have taken an alcohol poisoning level of alcohol to get him well and truly drunk, but that didn’t mean he needed to encourage himself toward bad behavior.</p><p>“Food just got here,” he explained, leaving Mouri in the entryway to take off his shoes. “It’s ready whenever.”</p><p>"Wow, you don't mess around." Mouri left his shoes at the door and would have brought his bag beyond the entryway if he hadn't laid eyes on Usagi. He made his way over to the couch where she was stretched out like she owned the place and gave her gentle pets. Nothing made life slightly more tolerable than a fluffy bun. "She's starting to look like a cloud," he commented. The poor thing was getting overgrown.</p><p>On a pass back through the entryway from the kitchen, Ochi wordlessly picked up Mouri’s bag, and gently sat it at the base of the stairs to go to the second level when they were ready to go to bed. To many, the sheer size of his condo seemed completely ridiculous, in particular when it was just he and his rabbit, but the purchase had been made at a time when he just needed to do something, and, well, it was home.</p><p>“She is,” he confirmed, folding his arms over his chest to watch Mouri petting her. “I’ll likely need to either learn how to do it myself or find another who can handle it while keeping distance from Jirou.”</p><p>Mouri briefly turned over the idea of Ochi grooming a bunny before shaking his head and looking back at him. “Nah, just wait for Akutagawa.” After he finished his sentence, he just… stared. Ochi’s eyes were dark and sunken. Every time he was with the man, recently, it had been in the capacity of work and he hadn’t taken the time to really appreciate him. He was handsome as ever, of course, but he looked like a man staring into Hell. Mouri didn’t dare press again to ask if Ochi was okay, instead he played with Usagi’s ears and tore his gaze away from tired, blue eyes.</p><p>“Man, I could eat a horse though.” He laughed. “I mean, not a literal horse. Didn’t something like that start this whole mess?”</p><p>Even if Ochi were to wait until the severity of the situation died down, it would likely be quite a while before he would be inviting Akutagawa to his home. Perhaps it would be fine were he to have Usagi dropped off and picked up with direct contact. Regardless, he didn’t want to be one responsible for potentially passing the virus to someone who already dealt with crippling illness. “I’ll figure it out.”</p><p>When he looked back to his friend, he was surprised to see dark eyes staring at him - as though he could see straight through him. It wasn’t the first time Mouri had done such things, especially when words escaped him or when he thought Ochi wasn’t paying him any attention, but it was the sort of stare that Ochi knew meant that Mouri was worrying unnecessarily about him.</p><p>“...I will be okay,” he said, interrupting Mouri’s monologue about the horse. “Don’t worry about me.”</p><p>"...I, uh…" Mouri wasn't prepared to be called out on staring at Ochi even if it was blatant and egregious. "Yeah, I know. You just look shitty, is all." After the words left his mouth, Mouri immediately began trying to swallow them back up. "I-I mean you're handsome, like that’s just a given, but your eyes look really tired and you're missing that spark. Even if you'll be fine, I don't think you're fine now, you know."</p><p>There weren’t many men in the world brave enough to tell Ochi Tsukimitsu that he looked like shit to his face, but he supposed that was one of the reasons why he allowed Mouri to become so close. Where so many had tiptoed around him or feared how he may respond to them, Mouri had never been anything other than enthusiastic and compassionate in his expression of friendship and companionship. Even when Ochi was being difficult, Mouri pushed straight through like a bull.</p><p>He likely should have looked in the mirror prior to Mouri coming over, however. There was no hiding any dark circles under his eyes, his skin was far too pale for that, but he could have at least made sure that he didn’t look completely unkempt like he imagined himself to be now.</p><p>It wasn’t a proper response, but Ochi made a small sound to acknowledge what Mouri said so as to not go completely silent. But Ochi didn’t know if he wanted to talk. Or what he wanted to talk about even if he did. And so, he did what he would sometimes do to redirect the attention. “Is it a given?”</p><p>Mouri laughed and reached back to punch Ochi’s arm lightly. “Hey, you know what I mean. Don’t tease me.” There was no way that a man who looked like Ochi didn’t know that he was beautiful to look at. And while Mouri wasn’t exactly forthcoming with it, he would be astonished if Ochi weren’t fully aware of the fact that he found him attractive since he had only been thinking it for around a decade, by now. “Leave it to you to pick that out of the whole thing I just said.”</p><p>Which meant that it worked, though Ochi wasn’t not so naive as to think that Mouri wouldn’t bring it up the moment the humor melted away. It was enough for them to focus on the task at hand - namely the meal that was going to get cold if they didn’t dig in - and if Mouri could somehow convince Ochi to talk more than he had already expended the effort for, well, then at least there was food. Maybe food would bring some color to his cheeks.</p><p>Briefly, Ochi set a hand atop Mouri’s shoulder to reassure him that he had been indeed heard, letting it linger for a few ticks of his watch. “Let’s eat,” he murmured before retracting his hand and retreating to the dining room table.</p><p>Mouri sighed, resigning himself to just letting Ochi be Ochi. “You put up with this every day, huh?” He said quietly to Usagi, giving her one last long stroke down her back before leaving her to do whatever massive angora bunnies did on nice, leather couches. He got to his feet and belatedly thought he should probably grab his bag which was… no longer at the door. He finally took a moment to glance around mostly in search of the bag. The apartment was emaculate as ever and though it was clear that there were all the necessities of life for a man and his bun as well as luxuries that Mouri neither had the space nor the money to afford.</p><p>It looked empty. Part of it was the size, but part of it was that there wasn’t much that showed off any unique personality… other than maybe the fact that Mouri was almost certain that everything in the apartment was furnished care of IKEA. Mouri’s bag sitting at the base of the stairs (so there it was!) looked wildly out of place in this showroom floor of a home.</p><p>A bit like Ochi himself, Mouri thought. He watched Ochi’s hands setting out their food in their careful and meticulous way that he did everything. His hands were long in every sense of the word and generally dwarfed anything they held, including when he held the hands of others. Finding himself getting too deep into his own mind, again, Mouri finally took up his seat at the table.</p><p>“This smells amazing,” he told Ochi, trying to restore his easy smile. “Thanks for inviting me - and feeding me.” He knew better than to even attempt to suggest he might somehow compensate Ochi for the food. He would be laughed (or, well, stared) out of the apartment.</p><p>It did smell amazing. Now that the food was laid out in front of them, Ochi was realizing just how hungry he actually was. Drinking on an empty stomach was not the brightest of ideas. “It does,” he agreed, picking his own burger up between his hands. “You’re welcome.”</p><p>Rather than doing that thing that most people did and inspect the burger closely as though to figure out from where to start, Ochi simply bit right in. This particular burger was a newer menu item - one that used a more unusual cheese than what was usually found on burgers in Japan and had sprouts as the primary vegetable. It was a light yet tasty juxtaposition to the patty that was cooked to a perfect medium, sandwiched between sprouted wheat buns.</p><p>But knowing Mouri’s more simplified taste, he made sure that his was pretty much your standard burger - just cooked in a higher quality fashion than the 100 yen menu at McDonald’s.</p><p>Mouri did just that - twisted the burger in his hands to figure out how to bite into it before deciding, fuck it, and taking a big bite. It was amazing - three slices of cheddar, two beef patties, bacon, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, and was that bbq sauce? There was also some sort of white sauce on it that tasted like a tangy mayo, or maybe an aioli or something. This was much fancier than Mouri would normally order his burgers, but it was delicious. The thick-cut fries that came with it were just as tasty - crisp on the outside, soft on the inside.</p><p>He barely finished chewing before he said, “it’s delicious.” He was in burger heaven. He had ascended.</p><p>It was gone as quickly as quickly as it came, but amusement did touch blue eyes. “I’m glad.” Hopefully it was exactly what Mouri had wanted - Ochi knew that it was definitely what he wanted. It was too bad he didn’t have the foresight to take a picture of the meal prior to eating it so that he could send it to Kimijima as proof, but then again he probably had enough discussion with Kimijima to last them both a lifetime of talking about their family issues.</p><p>Mouri gave Ochi a big smile before digging in, again. He wasn’t eating in the most polite, attractive way but it was just so good. And he was realizing just how hungry he was as he was eating it. He would have not had the best night if he had eaten that slice of leftover pizza in his fridge. He temporarily suspended his questions over Ochi’s wellbeing for the sake of satisfying the black hole that had formed in his stomach. It was startling to look down and realize the burger was gone when he was done shoveling it in his face - had he really eaten that much that quickly?</p><p>“Uh… oops, guess I was hungry.”</p><p>As much as Ochi would have loved to put down that food into a hungry maw like Mouri, never once in his life would he have been able to do so without being scolded. Both of his parents were very particular about manners - though given their upbringings separated by a multitude of borders, they had some differing opinions on what constituted good manners - and then the dining hall at Hyoutei hadn’t been much better.</p><p>By the time Mouri was finished, Ochi still had about a quarter of the burger to go. A fact that he let be known by a subtle quirk of his brow. “So you were.” Not that Ochi could blame him - likely he hadn’t eaten a good, proper meal in a while. “So you liked it.”</p><p>“Yeah, that was awesome.” Mouri leaned his elbow on the table, another thing he should not have been doing, of course, and took one of Ochi’s fries just to make sure that his manners were irredimible. Why was it that other people’s fries always tasted better than the ones on your own plate, anyway? “Is this place new?” It probably wasn’t, it was just probably hilariously far out of Mouri’s price range and so he would never go there without Ochi.</p><p>Not one to put up much of a fuss over a stolen fry, Ochi watched as Mouri did just that, chewing thoughtfully on the last part of his burger while doing so. His father would have found humour in Mouri, given the opportunity to spend time with him - elbows on the table were, in fact, against the law of his mother’s side of the manners debate.</p><p>“No, it’s not.” He finished off his own burger with a fry for good measure. “They have a rotating menu, so it’s a nice way to try something new.”</p><p>A rotating menu at a burger place sounded ultra fancy, in Mouri’s opinion. Burger places didn’t need to rotate. They sold burgers and that’s why you went to those restaurants. But this was also coming from the guy who was totally content with the McDonald’s 100 yen menu, so he probably should not be a food critic in any sense of the word.</p><p>It was hard to know for sure if this was one of those times that he was supposed to be quiet and let Ochi be quiet or if he should keep prodding him to talk or if he should just babble to fill the silence but not force Ochi to meet him in the middle. Usually he was a pretty good judge of what Ochi needed, but sometimes he would be in this place that felt like a secret little part of him that Mouri wasn’t completely privy to. He did know that when Ochi went into this little closet inside his heart, it was because of his family, usually in processing grief over his father. Mouri wondered if maybe something happened after their shift today.</p><p>Throwing caution to the wind, Mouri decided he might as well go with dumb babble and see if Ochi was in the mood to engage. “So you try out all these different rotating burgers but everything in your house is IKEA.” He picked up one of Ochi’s fries and poked him in the hand with it before putting it in his mouth. “And I don’t even see any of those meme sharks.”</p><p>In truth, Ochi had an IKEA shark. A couple of them, in fact. But they were tucked away in a box in his closet from his childhood home that he hadn’t bothered to unpack when he moved into his condo. It was nothing more than old toys, really, though he knew that the real reason was because he wanted to leave an element of his childhood tucked away for the time being.</p><p>“Do you have a problem with IKEA?” Mouri wasn’t <i>wrong</i>, everything in his house was pretty much furnished with IKEA furniture, but it was because couldn’t be bothered spending exorbitant amounts of money on furniture that would be soon be outdated, and it kept the clean lines that he preferred in his own home. It was maybe catalogue like, but it did keep it easy to clean - especially having a rabbit around.</p><p>“It’s just very you.” Mouri leaned his face in his hand, resting his elbow on the table once again. Leave it to the half Skandanavian man to furnish his entire home with IKEA furniture. He wondered absently if Ochi’s mother decorated with it, also, or if Ochi had developed the love on his own independent of his mother’s tastes in furniture. He did have a point, of course - it was all very clean looking, but he had a hard time imagining Ochi sitting around assembling furniture. He wondered if he found it more frustrating or soothing? “Though, it’s hard to picture you sitting down and putting together build-by-numbers furniture.”</p><p>No, Ochi wasn’t assembling his own furniture at all. Which in and of itself didn’t really make sense as to why he would prefer IKEA furniture that did need to be assembled, but it was just as easy to pay someone to come and do it. There were plenty of people who needed the work, and Ochi wasn’t entirely certain that he would have the patience to do so himself. The one time he tried was with a cousin visiting from Norway, and they both nearly threw the pieces in the trash.</p><p>Granted, at the time he was thirteen and his cousin fifteen, so it was really no surprise that two teenagers said fuck it to the task.</p><p>“I don’t.” Ochi reached for a couple fries, humorously tiny in his long fingers, and promptly munched.</p><p>Mouri looked at the furniture, looked at Ochi, then back to the furniture. “...Do they do it for you if you pay them enough, or something?”</p><p>As appealing as it would be for IKEA to offer not only a delivery service, but also a personal builder, it would also completely destroy the whole purpose behind IKEA, and therefore wouldn’t be likely implemented. IKEA didn’t need to bend to the wills of humans - humans would flock no matter what.</p><p>But it would be nice.</p><p>“No,” he said flatly.</p><p>Well if that wasn’t it… then maybe there was a furniture building service you could call like a moving service? That seemed like the sort of business that Japan would have to make sure as many people as possible had jobs. Mouri had certainly worked some odd jobs through university to keep a roof over his head, most of which involved manual labor since he was capable of it. Or, now that he thought about it a bit more constructively, maybe Ochi just slipped some college kids a few bucks under the table to do it for him. But… imagine being one of those kids and then seeing the way that Ochi lived.</p><p>The look on Mouri’s face suggested that he was likely given way too much thought to the matter at hand. It was IKEA furniture, not rocket science, though Ochi would be the first to admit that sometimes IKEA furniture could be a bit like attempting to understand rocket science without appropriate experience.</p><p>“...Jusaburou.”</p><p>Mouri lifted his head to the sound of his name, lifted from his thoughts. “I zoned out, huh?” He liked the sound of his name the way Ochi said it, but that was something he absolutely refused to say aloud. With how long they had known one another, and the fact that Ochi had never really minded that Mouri called him by a nickname, it wasn’t the weirdest thing that he got it in return, but usually when they were working they had to refer to one another by the surnames and it could make him forget what it was like when it was just the two of them.</p><p>“You did,” Ochi confirmed, pushing the remaining couple of fries to Mouri’s side of the table. “There are plenty of university students looking for odd jobs.”</p><p>It had resulted in some interesting stories over the years. Once one of his classmates from university insisted that he could do it - without pay, just payment with pizza and beer - and it had only been a couple of weeks after Ochi had closed on the condo, so there was minimal furniture set up. His classmate’s eyes had already grown to the size of saucers by the time they were approaching the condo building itself - with a view of the Sky Tree in the background - and his actual mind was blown once they actually entered.</p><p>Mouri had a feeling that was it. “Man, you must have confused a lot of people you brought back to this place.” Mouri himself, even having a pretty solid understanding of Ochi’s wealth, had been beside himself the first time he visited. Other people he knew just didn’t live with that kind of affluence. Growing up he didn’t have friends who were now casually buying penthouses.</p><p>“At times.”</p><p>And Ochi did. It confused friends, his mother herself wasn’t entirely sure why he wanted such a big, lonely place all to himself (though she encouraged him to do what would make him happy), and his wretched brothers had used it as evidence that he was misusing family funds (as though purchasing a home, no matter how extravagant, was a misuse of funds). It wouldn’t have necessarily been a purchase that he would have made in sound mind - he was never one to desire excess, even if he did grow up with the affluency to do so - but if the worst thing he did when his dad die was spend way too much money on a two storey penthouse, well, anyone who took issue with that could fuck right off.</p><p>Somehow Ochi’s eyes began to look tired again - there was a subtle way that he would shift his head that caused his hair to partially obscure his face. Most people found this look on him frightening, Mouri just thought it made him look sad. Lonely. He thought again about pressing Ochi, but up until now he hadn’t shown any interest in speaking about it, so… instead, Mouri reached out and took one of Ochi’s hands that dwarfed even his, and Mouri had larger hands than most. He didn’t say anything and didn’t dare look him in the eyes, that would be way too personal when they were close and he was holding his hand.</p><p>Normally Ochi was perceptive - it wasn’t common that he be taken off guard, in particular not when he was in the company of someone he was close to such as Mouri. And yet, the hand that wrapped around his own, pulling him out of thoughts, did just that. Ochi couldn’t remember the last time someone who was not his mother had given such a friendly touch - he wondered if maybe it had been longer than he had really realized.</p><p>Blue eyes glanced at Mouri’s face who was definitely not looking at him. Probably because he was holding his hand. Ochi didn’t break the silence, but replacing the tired look was instead a slight curiosity.</p><p>When Ochi remained quiet, Mouri couldn’t help but look back at him. He had a choice - either he was going to double-down on this holding his hand thing or he needed to let go. At that crossroads, he gave his hand a little squeeze and smiled reassuringly at him. It was a tough time for everyone, right now, and probably for Ochi most of all. No one should feel alone, but especially not Ochi, Mouri thought. Maybe it was a bit selfish of him, but even knowing how awful the world was right now, Mouri could only think about how Ochi must be feeling.</p><p>Mouri’s reassuring smile brought any turmoil that had been slow building in the pit of his stomach all day to simmer, and the tension to slowly unknit from his shoulders. For as much as Ochi seemed completely unfazed by anything, it wasn’t entirely true; he simply didn’t wish to admit, especially to himself, just how much of an effect everything had on him. And with no end in sight, it was difficult at times to see how there could ever possibly be light at the end of the tunnel.</p><p>Ochi’s eyes wandered down to his hand held in Mouri’s, holding the same position for a few moments before turning his hand over to clasp Mouri’s hand in return. The gesture meant a lot, though he wouldn’t verbalize as such.</p><p>Mouri wasn’t sure what to do with any of this. He had acted out of instinct and now Ochi was responding in what was possibly the least likely way he could think of for him to react. While Ochi’s nerves calmed, Mouri felt his own stomach bubbling to a boil trying to process the feeling of Ochi’s hand in his. It was relieving and overwhelming and… maybe he was also starving for human contact that this made him feel so valued and relieved. He was afraid to say anything, lest Ochi would let go of his hand, but he was afraid to stay silent, lest he never know. Caught in decision paralysis, he sat in silence.</p><p>On the contrary, Ochi was caught in no such paralysis. He sat there as though holding hands with Mouri was the most natural thing that could have happened, even if it wasn’t really something that had been part of their relationship up until this point. Ochi wasn’t opposed to it; quite the opposite. Mouri’s hand felt warm and sturdy in his hand - the hands of someone who had played tennis hard for so many years, and now trained just as hard, but for the good of mankind rather than such a small group of people.</p><p>Yet still, he remained quiet, simply continuing to watch their hands.</p><p>“Tsuki-san,” Mouri felt awkward saying the nickname in what felt like a private moment. But it wouldn’t be right to use his last name and Mouri had never even made an attempt at his first name. He wasn’t sure anyone who wasn’t blood-related to Ochi would call him by his first name. Maybe Tanegashima - he had balls of steel. He felt like a twit taking so long to say something else, but finally managed, “I’m not going to let you be alone… so, you don’t have to let go.” It wasn’t quite what he meant to say or how he really felt, but he hoped Ochi would understand.</p><p>At the sound of his name, Ochi raised his eyes to meet Mouri’s. It hung in the air between them for a few beats of the heart, Ochi calmly holding his gaze, Mouri seemingly struggling to say anything else. Ochi didn’t think that he needed to say anything more - Ochi understood. But even so, the next words were no less surprising than the initial touch to begin with, and perhaps he didn’t have as perfect of a read on Mouri as he would have thought.</p><p>But, the sentiment...</p><p>“...Neither do you.”</p><p>Mouri felt that obnoxious sting come to his eyes, again. He really didn’t want this when Ochi was around. Mouri wasn’t the kind of guy that was worried he would somehow be less a man if he was seen crying in front of others, when people cried they had damn well earned it, in his opinion, but he didn’t want to put any more burdens on Ochi. He took a deep breath, swallowed around the lump in his throat, and said, “I won’t.”</p><p>And, just in case he needed to hear it, “I really… care, you know.”</p><p>Ochi adjusted his hold to Mouri’s hand just enough so he could rub a soothing circle around his knuckles and the back of his hand with his thumb. He knew that feeling - he knew that feeling well. He may have avoided emoting heavily around other people, but that didn’t mean he was completely infallible. And the man sitting before him was one of the few to have ever seen it to begin with.</p><p>“And I, you,” he said quietly, looking back down to their clasped hands where he did another loop of his thumb. “It’s difficult for everyone, right now. Not just a select few. It’s okay to feel how you feel.”</p><p>Quietly, Mouri nodded, watching Ochi’s thumb move over his hand. Maybe he took for granted that all being in the same boat meant that they were all facing the same feelings. But, different people were processing things differently, coming from different stages of grief, had different financial challenges, or different work and family obligations. It was easy for him to forget that his specific situation also deserved to be treated with care and kindness just as much as everyone else. His experience was unique.</p><p>“Thanks.” He looked back to Ochi’s face. Some of the color had returned since he had eaten and it seemed like less of the weight was pulling down the bags under his eyes. It made Mouri smile once more, genuinely feeling like a weight inside of him was also lifted.</p><p>Wordlessly, Ochi put his other hand atop their clasped hands, capturing Mouri’s between his palms as he watched the expressions on his face. Whatever had been plaguing Mouri seemed to have lifted, and Ochi himself felt a bit lighter than he had even moments prior. There was still a lot to take on and process, but to Mouri’s point, he wasn’t alone. A head full of springy curls and bright eyes would make sure of it.</p><p>Something in the back of Mouri’s mind was pointing out to him that this was kinda awkward and they couldn’t just… stare at each other indefinitely. It felt like something was supposed to happen - someone was supposed to speak or act or… something. But Mouri found himself motionless, studying Ochi’s face.</p><p>It was times like these that a tiny, minuscule part of him wished to be more like Atobe Keigo. Atobe was a great number of things, but perhaps both his greatest weakness and greatest strength was to throw all caution to the wind and act on impulse. It rarely took him in the wrong direction. But where Atobe would toss himself into the line of fire, Ochi certainly carefully considered his actions prior to taking the leap. Both were effective; both were valid. But careful consideration would pull him deep into his thoughts, and Mouri was about as deep as a baby pool and therefore it wouldn’t do either of them any good.</p><p>Meddling or not, there was some merit to Kimijima’s request to tell Mouri that he had nice hair or something. The trouble was that if Ochi told Mouri that Kimijima wanted him to tell Mouri that he had nice hair, Mouri would be curious as to why Kimijima thought that he had nice hair, and the nuance would be completely lost on him. But saying so without the context also wasn’t Ochi’s style, either, and would likely just cause more confusion than not.</p><p>Ochi wasn’t blind to Mouri’s attraction to him. He also wasn’t oblivious to the fact that Mouri had some feelings for him, though that was where he didn’t quite know the extent of it as it had never come up. But it probably wasn’t the time to just call him out on it, and even if he had, to what end? Ochi’s relationship with romance and sex was complicated, and attempting to explain it without prompting would also end in confusion.</p><p>And so, that brought him back to square one, where it was clear that they had crossed a line - a line where if he simply pulled back, it would be awkward, and if he plowed forward it would be awkward but in a different way. But not simply saying what he was thinking was also not his style, and so, the safest thing to do would be to just… ask Mouri about it.</p><p>“What are you thinking?”</p><p>“I, uh…” Mouri glanced down at their hands, feeling silly saying what he had been thinking out loud. He had, of course, told Ochi to do something before because he could get himself into decision paralysis by spending so much time carefully weighing his options rather than acting, but he had this feeling brewing in his gut that if he said it now it would actually have some sort of lasting impact that would change things. “I was thinking that one of us was supposed to do something. You know, rather than just look at each other.” His eyes flitted back up to Ochi’s face as if looking for approval.</p><p>Ah, and there it was. So, they were on the same page after all. The direction of their thoughts, anyway.</p><p>A thoughtful expression partially masked by platinum hair passed through Ochi’s otherwise calm expression. There were two ways to go about it - talk about it or agree to drop it. And Ochi wasn’t sure what the correct course of action, or if there even was one. But regardless of anything, they had already taken the baby step there.</p><p>“I understand.” Ochi met Mouri’s eyes once more, gently patting the top of Mouri’s hand absently. “I have been thinking about whether or not it’s an appropriate time to… address things. As they are.”</p><p>Address things. Mouri felt something in his brain pop when Ochi said that. The answer was definitely no, no it was not the right time to be addressing things, whatever things were. But like… it hadn’t been the right time to address things for literally years given everything going on in Ochi’s life and Mouri spending two years back home in Kobe and now the world was on fire and everything was bad. It probably wasn’t a good time to be talking about any sort of things at all, really, given that no one was in the right emotional state to make any sort of life-changing decisions.</p><p>But he had to say something or he was right back to just staring at him like a dumb puppy. Mouri ventured his thoughts aloud, “You’re right… I mean, about it not being a good time. I’m not really sure it’s a good time for anything at all.”</p><p>That was true. But with that same line of thinking, there would never be a good time for anything. If there was one thing that Ochi had learned with the experience of losing his father, a dysfunctional family, and dealing with being in and out of a courtroom being dragged for his very existence, it was that nothing would ever get accomplished ever without some sort of action regardless of whether or not it was a good time. Inaction led nowhere.</p><p>“I suppose on the contrary, is there ever a good time for anything?”</p><p>“...No,” Mouri conceded with a small smile. “Which is also kinda what I was thinking.” He put his free hand on top of Ochi’s, completing their stack of hands. “I don’t know, I’m probably thinking about this too hard.” It was probably unfair to say that Mouri hadn’t given this ample thought, he thought about Ochi every day for what felt like forever, but Ochi wasn’t usually willing to talk about things like this or be so forthcoming. Ugh.</p><p>“Probably.” A ghost of a smile touched Ochi’s lips, and just like a five year old, he pulled his bottom hand out from the pile to set it on top of Mouri’s to reclaim the top. Whatever heavy lingered in the air seemed to dissipate them, at least, and Ochi felt a little more in his element. “Either way, none of this is likely good conversation over the remnants of dinner.”</p><p>Mouri laughed, yanking out his hand to reclaim the pile. “No, it’s not,” he agreed with a bright grin. “I think we might also both be a little overtired.” Or a lot overtired if he had somehow incited hand games with Ochi Tsukimitsu.</p><p>Ochi regarded the pile carefully as he spoke. “Likely that, as well.” To the contrary, Ochi didn’t feel tired at all, which usually meant that he was indeed overtired. “How about I clean up and you can go bathe. We can resume after.” As though to accent the point, he set a closed fist on top of the pile.</p><p>“Yeah, a bath sounds nice.” Mouri smiled softly, also looking at their hands.</p><p>...And yanked both out to triumphantly pile on top of Ochi’s.</p><p> </p><p>The great thing about dinner ordered in was that there was very little to clean up. Sorting and throwing away the trash, cleaning the few plates that were used, and a quick wipe of the table restored the eating area to how it was prior to Mouri coming over. With a push of a button he had started filling the bathtub for Mouri to enjoy after his shower, and a second push started the second shower room to do the same. Having multiple full bathrooms was one of the greatest appeals of the condo.</p><p>As he too settled into the bath to relax for a few moments, his thoughts didn’t really go anywhere other than to simply fade away into a whole lot of nothingness. It was for the best - he had done more than enough thinking and speaking to last him a lifetime. Not that he was in the clear - he did promise to resume conversation, after all. But that was a concern for future Tsukimitsu. Current Tsukimitsu sunk into the bath as far as he could go, and though his knees remained exposed, he could shove himself deep enough to at least bring the water level to his chin.</p><p>What was probably merely twenty minutes felt like three hours, but Ochi certainly wasn’t complaining. Even as the bath slowly drained and he dressed himself in expensive but comfortable sweats, the steam of the hot water swayed around him and kept his bangs plastered to his cheeks. The blue had long since faded since he had it touched up, now more a seafoam green on his light hair, and slicking it back to expose his hairline brought to light just how much they had grown out. Were it not for the fact that Akutagawa would chastise him for doing so, he’d consider simply trimming out the remnants.</p><p>As it stood, his comfy, dry ass with his hair pulled out of his face was content to curl back up on the couch with Usagi and enjoy a few pages on the book he was reading on his iPad before Mouri came out to join him.</p><p>Mouri had discovered, belatedly, that the t-shirt that he packed in his bag was not the new one that he got from work that fit him properly but instead the one that he got when he first entered the academy that he had outgrown in his early-20s growth spurt that broadened and filled out his shoulders and chest. Not wanting to rock a muscle shirt (and not wanting to interrupt Ochi’s bath), he snuck into Ochi’s room to find a shirt that would be more suited to his size which was hilariously long on him (usually not a problem he had with his large frame) but at least didn’t make him look like he was trying too hard to pick up girls at the gym. Paired with his own pair of Uniqlo sweats, he made his way back down the stairs to where Ochi had curled up on the end of the couch with Usagi.</p><p>He didn’t say anything to interrupt Ochi, still, who looked like he was enjoying some reading on his tablet. Instead, he curled his legs under him on the other side of Usagi and started mindlessly scrolling through his phone. The internet was a dangerous place filled with misinformation and bad news, right now, but there were just enough cat pictures and otter videos to balance that out.</p><p>Ochi relaxed even further when he realized that Mouri wasn’t going to interrupt his reading for now, allowing himself to fall a little deeper into the book. While he certainly had favorite genres, he also wasn’t one to turn his nose up at reading pretty much anything - this book in particular was a murder mystery that he had figured out within the first two hundred pages, but he was curious to see how the author was going to play it out. It was about the journey, not the destination, of course.</p><p>As he read, he draped an arm over the back of the couch, gently resting his hand on the back of Mouri’s head on wet curls. He otherwise made no motion to acknowledge that Mouri was there, though Usagi stretched herself out further to also touch her front paws to Mouri’s cloth covered leg.</p><p>Mouri’s heart exploded when he was blessed by the touch of bunny beans. He looked down at her and smiled, feeling his chest swell - he had been chosen by the rabbit. He gave her more pats, his hands lingering on her ears even as Ochi seemed to mirror the same on his wet hair. He also glanced at Ochi who seemed to have delved deeper into what he was reading. He thought this side of Ochi was probably his favorite, and a lot of things about Ochi were his favorite. He also liked when he could see his whole face unobscured by hair.</p><p>Ochi didn’t notice Mouri’s eyes on him as he read, though vaguely he could feel Usagi’s back legs pushing on him to stretch herself out further. Fingertips lightly took singular curls between them to fiddle as he read. The protagonst was probably going to do something stupid - that’s how it always went.</p><p>Fortunately for Mouri, Ochi was also a quick reader. After a couple of chapters, he looked up from the screen of the iPad to glance over at his hand in Mouri’s hair. Waterlogged with water, though it was clear Mouri had attempted to dry it, his hair was much darker - a rich red that also suited his complexion well. As the screen turned to black, Ochi set the iPad on the side table, and turned a little to face Mouri instead, eyes wandering down to Usagi who had made herself quite at home.</p><p>“She enjoys when you visit,” he acknowledged, gently stroking down her side. “She relaxes.”</p><p>“Akutagawa is her favorite, though, right?” Mouri was at a disadvantage in that battle for affection. Ochi’s former underclassman from Hyoutei had gone on to become a hairdresser and beautician and took it upon himself to also be Usagi’s personal groomer since, as an angora, she had enough wool that she needed to be regularly shorn so as to not get matted beyond comfort and so she could effectively groom herself. Though Mouri said this, Usagi seemed perfectly content to make herself as sausage-like as possible, spreading herself as far as her legs would stretch across the couch.</p><p>“He has an advantage - he feeds her.” Ochi let her stretch out before resuming his stroking, subconsciously doing the same in Mouri’s hair. “She’s gluttonous.”</p><p>"It would work on me," Mouri admitted, as though the fact that he was still here soaking up Ochi’s affection wasn't proof of just that. He wouldn't dare move a very comfortable looking rabbit, but he wouldn't mind stretching out with his head rested on Ochi’s leg, too.</p><p>With the slightest amusement in his voice, Ochi said, “Clearly.” Mouri all but jumped at the opportunity to come over for dinner - he didn’t think he was all that different from Usagi.</p><p>"Hey," Mouri said in the weakest, least effective protest he could muster. He tilted his head into the touch on his hair and closed his eyes. Maybe he couldn't be a sausage on the couch like Usagi, but he could enjoy the attention. "It takes more than that to get to my heart, you know."</p><p>The protest was found on deaf ears; the damage was done, Ochi knew the truth. As Mouri’s eyes closed, he more deliberately played with his hair, his fiddling having wrung the water out of his hair leaving it a lighter shade of red than the rest. “...Such as?”</p><p>"You tell me," Mouri joked, "You'd know best." No sooner than he said it did he wonder why he said it and also wondered if this couch happened to be carnivorous and interested in swallowing him whole. He tried to play it cool by not moving or opening his eyes, but his sharp, awkward breaths and stiffened posture would give him away.</p><p>Ochi regarded Mouri quietly. Unfortunately the couch was not carnivorous and wouldn’t swallow Mouri whole, but at the very least the leather was supple enough that anyone would sink into it when they sat down. The hand came to a still, simply resting within the curls once more, as he carefully considered his next words. “...Do you want to talk about it?</p><p>Was there anything to say that they hadn't already? Especially now that Mouri was running off at the mouth. "Um. No. I mean… I don't know what I would say." He definitely didn't want to risk driving a wedge between them right now when he really needed Ochi to be his rock more than ever.</p><p>“You don’t have to say anything,” Ochi said in what he hoped was reassurance. And it was fair - Ochi didn’t want to push Mouri to talk about anything he didn’t want to, especially when it was such a delicate topic. Nothing needed to be said, anyway - just if Mouri wanted to, that line of communication was open, and Ochi would listen.</p><p>On the flip side, he didn’t want Mouri to go off believing that he was troubling him or that it was an off the table topic… nor did he want to lead him into thinking that Ochi was oblivious.</p><p>Ugh. This was not his forte.</p><p>Testing the waters, he ventured, “You won’t scare me away.”</p><p>Mouri finally got up the courage to look up at Ochi’s face, again, though he felt a tremor vibrating through his chest. Part of him wished Ochi would just… call out the elephant in the corner rather than asking Mouri to coax it out. He knew Ochi would never do that, but he also felt like there was no way Ochi possibly returned anything Mouri was feeling if he wouldn't just say something himself. "I thought nothing scared you."</p><p>A bit of a wry smile touched Ochi’s lips, gone as soon as it came. “To the contrary, I’ve never scared away you.”</p><p>Mouri looked a bit confused. "Why would you?"</p><p>And that was one of the many reasons why Ochi cared so much for Mouri. It wasn’t so much that Ochi anticipated that people be afraid of him, it was the unfortunate side effect of his height and stature for one, but also his lack of emoting that often had people stepping sideways around him. It wasn’t intentional in the least, Ochi wasn’t trying to be unfriendly, but it had been that way for pretty much as long as he could remember in his late teenaged years and well into his twenties.</p><p>“Most are.” It sounded dramatic, but…</p><p>"Afraid of you?" Mouri laughed, looking back down at Usagi who was, in his mind, the epitome of why Ochi wasn't frightening at all. He was a gentle bookworm who spoke precisely and didn't put up with bullshit, but he was compassionate… and lonely. Any amount of time with him would show that. "I'm way more scared you'll stop wanting me around."</p><p>That thought wasn’t worth the breath it took to say it, and Ochi said just as much. “That won’t ever happen, so don’t even bother having the thought.”</p><p>Mouri opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. The problem was the thing they were supposed to be talking about that Ochi wasn't acknowledging. "But… Tsuki-san, if you don't… I mean, if it's me thinking these things and you don't think them… or…" He couldn't seem to coherently articulate what he was trying to say. All of it was frustrating. "I don't want to make it weird. I'm scared I will and you'll stop letting me in."</p><p>In his attempts to avoid making Mouri feel called out, now Ochi wondered if maybe that had been all the wrong way to go about it. This was where he got himself in trouble, doing things one way that seemed like it would be the kindest for the other person while not necessarily fitting his usual way of doing things… he really should have known better than to try to do so with Mouri.</p><p>Not that he knew how to articulate his feelings, either. He hesitated to call them feelings; he just didn’t think in those sorts of terms. Could Ochi imagine a life spent with Mouri? Absolutely. But it wasn’t as though he was actively seeking that with feelings that were more in line with how Mouri felt - it could have been completely platonic and he would feel the same way. And it wasn’t that he was opposed to it, either, it was just…</p><p>He was thinking too hard about it.</p><p>“Jusaburou.” For the second time in the evening, he said Mouri’s name more like it was a statement. As he said so, his hand slipped out of Mouri’s hair to fix to his shoulder instead. He hoped it seemed soothing. It was meant to be. “I will be frank with you. You’re not making anything weird. If I haven’t refused to let you in now, I will have no reason to do so. I don’t waste my time with people I don’t care about.” For a brief moment, he paused, eyes drifting down to Usagi who now seemed to be snoring away. “...I don’t know how I can describe how I’m feeling in a way that you will understand.”</p><p>And for good measure, if only to properly acknowledge it, “I’m aware of your feelings. I’m sorry that I haven’t acknowledged them properly up until now.”</p><p>Unsure how to react or what to even say, Mouri remained silent, though his posture relaxed. It was relieving for Ochi to just say it and acknowledge it so he didn’t have to wonder if they were even speaking the same language. That… that could be enough for him, for now. Maybe forever if that was all it ever was. "Thank you," he said, meaning the words genuinely. "I think I get it."</p><p>Mouri let his hand rest on Usagi and smiled brightly at Ochi. "I'm happy just like this, you know. Anything else I could ask for would be… well, because I want to give you everything you've given me."</p><p>The smile confused Ochi. Not that he didn’t think Mouri was smiling genuinely or anything like that, it just seemed too… well, he was probably overthinking it. Mouri wasn’t, after all, particularly deep. It was part of his charm.</p><p>“You have given me everything,” he said quietly, his hand dropping away from Mouri’s shoulder entirely to instead rest on Usagi opposite from Mouri’s. In his lowest, most vulnerable moments, Mouri had been there; even now, he could recall the circle of arms around his shoulders holding him tightly through sobs that wracked his entire body. And the greatest part was that it had never been spoken of again - Mouri had the foresight to understand when and when was not the time to push Ochi to say anything, which was more than really anyone in his life had ever shown him save for a very select few.</p><p>Mouri poked Ochi’s hand on Usagi with one finger. "Because I love you," he told Ochi softly, putting words to something he had been so careful not to name. It wasn't as simple as love of a friend or of a lover, but it also wasn't brotherly love or love of a mentor. It was a love he would do anything for. "And you deserve everything."</p><p>The telltale sign of strong emotion that Ochi so carefully kept wrapped under layers of ice and calm stung his nose and tightened his throat. It would be nothing more than that, but the shift would be obvious to Mouri who seemed to see straight through him regardless of any wall that could be erected. To have it put so succinctly into an expression of affection that was so uncommon in their shared language...</p><p>Mouri was yet full of surprises for him, yet.</p><p>It was a brief moment to recenter himself before he looked back up to Mouri. With such fine hair, it had already begun to dry, falling down back into his face as per usual, though somehow his eyes managed to remain uncharacteristically uncovered through the tilt of his face. Words escaped him. He wasn’t sure what he’d say even if they hadn’t. Thank you? I appreciate that you feel that way? So you just came out and said it?</p><p>Unexpectedly calm, Mouri shook his head as if to say there was no need to say anything. He moved his hand a bit further forward to cover Ochi’s completely where it rested on Usagi. Only her snoring filled the silence between and he was comfortable with that. He had all his answers in Ochi’s eyes.</p><p>Without disrupting the rabbit, Ochi turned his hand around enough to clasp Mouri’s hand properly, twining their fingers together. Regardless of how things played out from there, Ochi was certain that they were on the same page. And, really, that was plenty good for him.</p>
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